


The Failed Ones

by kimnoodles



Category: BLACKPINK (Band), Mamamoo, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arson, Blind Ahn Hyejin | Hwasa, But Not Much, Discrimination, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Kim Yongsun | Solar/Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul, Everyone Needs A Hug, Guard Kim Namjoon | RM, Hallucinations, Hoseok leads an underground resistance force, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin Are Best Friends, Mental Health Issues, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Needles, Oblivious Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Past Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin, People are Assholes, Platonic Liskook, Pyromaniac Min Yoongi | Suga, Rebellion, Some Humor, Taehyung is kind of a dick at first but he gets better, Trauma, Unified Korea, Violence, hoseok and wheein are siblings, jiwoo exists too, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-05-19 20:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnoodles/pseuds/kimnoodles
Summary: Every Korean citizen must take the Test when they turn eighteen. Everyone goes in, most come out. The few that don’t return are considered failures, and none of them are ever seen again. Nobody knows what criteria have to be met in order to pass. Nobody knows where the failed ones go.But, with another failure and the reunion of two childhood friends, maybe things will change. Deep below the earth, whispers of a rebellion are beginning to spread.After all, nobody can be kept submissive forever.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> even the prologue contains some violence and also needles so if you can’t handle that either skip it or don’t read the fic at all!!  
> (yes, it’s okay if you skip the prologue)

The cell is tiny, barely big enough to fit the bed and toilet and sink and still give its occupant room to move around. The toilet is made of metal and looks sort of grimy, and the bed is barely fit for sitting on comfortably, let alone sleeping. Ahn Hyejin stares up at the ceiling, wishing she could fall asleep and wake up back home in her bed. She wishes this were all a dream, but it’s not. The whole thing is very, very real. She failed the Test. She’s never going home.

All she wanted was a normal life. She thought she would pass, that she would go on and live a nice peaceful life like her parents and sister did. So she had tried to be the perfect woman, making sure her grades never dropped below an A+, always being polite and helpful and obedient, planning to be a marine biologist instead of an artist, getting over her crush on that Wheein girl from middle school. None of it worked, evidently, because now she’s locked in a tiny cell in some underground facility. There’s a tiny window on one wall, covered by bars with gaps too small to put more than a finger through, allowing her to talk to the man in the next cell over. His name is Seokjin and he’s been there for around three years and he’s batshit insane. He had introduced himself and then, before Hyejin could respond, he’d said _they’re telling me to call you Hwasa_. Hyejin had replied, _no, my name’s Hyejin,_ and Seokjin had shrugged and replied, _you’re Hwasa now_.

Then Seokjin had started saying things that were even more bizarre and confusing, starting with _the lights... Hwasa, do you see them? The dancing lights?_ Then, after Hyejin had tried and failed to figure out what he meant, he’d said _please, don’t be like everyone else. Don’t run away because of this. I can’t help it, I didn’t ask for this.._ _._ Eventually he’d started screaming, something about how he wanted someone to bring him a star, and after a couple minutes of that a guard came in and grabbed Seokjin and stuck a needle in his neck. Hyejin had watched this through the little window, and Seokjin had looked her dead in the eyes with a gaze that seemed to pierce her very soul and said, as the guard pulled the needle out, _don’t be a threat. Don’t end up like me._ Then he’d slumped to the floor and the guard left his cell, and Seokjin remained catatonic for what had to have been several hours. He’d still been out when their whole cell block was brought to a cafeteria for what must have been dinner, and he was still out when they returned, only waking up a little while later.

Seokjin is asleep again now, although this time it’s natural and not caused by a sedative, and Hyejin wishes she could sleep so soundly. She lays awake, still staring at the ceiling, and she feels her world crumble.

 

___

 

It’s been three days, and Hyejin wants to go home. It’s all she thinks about when she’s not talking to Seokjin, who, despite his obvious insanity, is quite friendly and helpful. He’s explained that he sees things often, and nobody else sees them so either he’s crazy or they are, and it turns out that aside from the nonsensical rambling and occasional screaming he’s nice to be around. Hyejin’s also met some other people from their cell block, having run into them during meals or showers or the hour or so they get in a sort of recreational lounge floor which has a gym and games and nice chairs and better toilets. Seokjin’s the only one she thinks she’ll end up being friends with, since he’s the only person she has to talk to, but most of the other people are pretty nice too.

On the fourth day, Seokjin sees something on the other side of the cafeteria during their breakfast and starts screaming and crying about how it’s a demon and it’s there to kill someone. A pair of guards restrain him and sedate him and drag him out of the cafeteria, and Hyejin jumps up and runs after them because if there’s one thing she’s learned over the past few days it’s that Seokjin seems to be mistreated even more than everyone else she’s encountered, and even the other failed ones are assholes to him and _goddamnit_ Seokjin is nice and deserves better no matter how crazy he is. 

Hyejin lunges at the guards, trying to pull Seokjin away from them. “What did he ever do to you?!” She cries. “Leave him alone!” The guard who’s holding the needle pulls the little cap off the end again and, using it like a weapon, makes a stabbing motion in her direction. The needle plunges into Hyejin’s right eye and she screams and instinctively turns her head away. The needle slices through her eye when she moves, and the guard pulls it out but holds it at the ready, preparing to use it again if he has to. The other guard radioes for a medic and then drags Seokjin away. Hyejin’s eye is bleeding and it hurts like hell, so much worse than just a scratched cornea. Eventually, after what feels like far too long, a medic arrives and injects her with a sedative and she passes out before they can even get her out of the cafeteria.

 

___

 

Hyejin isn’t sure how much time she spends in the prison’s infirmary. The traces of Seokjin’s blood on the needle don’t cause problems, which Hyejin knows only because a doctor is informing someone else that Seokjin has type O blood, but her eye gets infected and the infection somehow spreads to her other eye as well. They’re worried it’ll get to her brain and maybe cause meningitis or encephalitis and kill her, but that doesn’t happen.

Instead, Hyejin goes completely blind. 


	2. Test

Ever since Lalisa failed the Test, Jungkook has been alone. Her birthday was in March, his today, in September, so part of him thinks he should’ve had enough time to move on. But he’s known Lisa since first grade, when she moved to Busan all the way from Bangkok, Thailand. They’d both been outcasts, with Jungkook being a shy kid who was in and out of the city’s foster home and Lisa speaking very little Korean, and Jungkook thinks that’s why they became friends. But now she’s gone forever and it  _hurts,_ it hurts so bad. She was his best friend, for god’s sake. Why did they have to take her away? 

Jungkook thinks he’s probably the only person to actually  _want_ to fail the Test. If he fails, and the failed ones are kept alive, maybe he’ll get to see Lisa again. His hopes aren’t very high, though, because he’s known for being good at everything except math and English and so unless his score hinges on those two things he’ll almost certainly pass. Besides, if the failed ones are kept alive, why hasn’t anyone escaped from where they were yet? This had been going on for decades now, far longer than Jungkook’s been alive, so surely _someone_ would’ve succeeded at some point, right? Right?

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by the car stopping in front of a large, imposing building. This is the place where the Test is conducted. The driver steps out and opens Jungkook’s door for him before getting back into the car once Jungkook is out. The car doesn’t leave, though, and Jungkook knows the driver is waiting for someone to get Jungkook to make sure he doesn’t run away. A tall man in a suit comes out of the building to retrieve him, and the next hour or so goes by without much ado. All Jungkook does is fill out some paperwork and then wait and wait and wait, and it sort of feels like he’s at the DMV. But then the man lead him into an elevator and they go up to a different floor where Jungkook is made to sit in a chair with a seatbelt-like strap that holds him in place. A woman wordlessly hands him a paper and the man tells him to answer the questions, and the two of them join a much older man at the other side of the large black table.

The paper is just like a test he’d take in school, only with a variety of multiple-choice questions from different subjects. They start out easy, with things like _what’s 4x7?_ and _what province is the city of Anyang located in?_ The answers, of course, are _28_ and _Gyeonggi,_ but Jungkook answers _69_ and _South Gyeongsang_. His goal is to do everything wrong so he fails. The questions steadily get harder, and Jungkook realizes he needs to know the answers so he knows which ones are wrong. He doesn’t know what the capital of Finland is, but he knows it’s not Berlin and that’s good enough. He also has no idea if Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch is a city or not, but it seems like it’s not and it’s probably a trick question so he selects _no_. Hopefully he’s gotten everything wrong.

Next he has to go into a different room and complete an obstacle course. He’s great at obstacle courses, but he makes sure to do a terrible job on this too. He trips over several hurdles, slips and falls a few times, falls halfway across the monkey bars, and finally trips as he’s jogging back over to the judges. He trips again as they walk down the hall, forcing the older man to grab him and pull him up with a disapproving frown. _Perfect_. Jungkook’s doing great.

They walk Jungkook back down to the lobby after he strategically fucks up a couple more tasks, and he waits for almost an hour before he’s brought into a small room on the first floor and made to sit in another one of those chairs with the strap. The lighting is dramatically dark. A guard is standing directly behind him. The three people who supervised his Test sit at the table in front of him. This time, they’re the ones with the paper.

”Jeon Jungkook,” the younger of the two men says. “I’m sorry to tell you that you have failed the test.”

”Yes,” Jungkook breathes. He feels something prick his neck and thinks, as his world fades to black, _I’m coming, Lisa_.

 

___

 

When Jungkook wakes up, he’s laying on something far less comfortable than the plush leather chair, which was nice even with the strap. The ceiling above him is white and bare save for a single fluorescent light. He’s laying on a bed that’s barely more than a thin mattress on annoyingly creaky metal springs. The bed is positioned against the wall, but not in the corner; the corners by the door are empty and the other two are occupied by a toilet and a sink. Great, that means if the sink starts leaking the water will pool by his bed. Above the sink is a cabinet with a mirror on the front. There’s a little window on the wall opposite the bed, covered by thin metal bars that leave only tiny gaps. Jungkook gets up and looks through it to see another cell that’s a mirror image of his, with another guy sitting in it.

The guy in question is very handsome, with dark hair that falls down to his shoulders. He’s sitting on his bed and reading a book. Where’d he get a book? There are no books in Jungkook’s cell. He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit, and Jungkook realizes he’s got one too. Ugh. Orange was never his color.

”Hey,” Jungkook says. “Where’d you get that?” The guy looks up, startled, and then smiles. His smile is rectangular and very bright and cheery. 

“‘Bout time you woke up,” he says. “I’ve been dying to have a new buddy. They moved my friend Jimin to a different cell recently. I think they thought we were conspiring. Although you’d think if they moved everyone for conspiring they’d separate Seokjin and Hwasa,” he adds, suddenly sounding very bitter and irritated. “Anyway, welcome to hell. My name’s Kim Taehyung and I’ll be your partner until they move you too.”

”I’m Jeon Jungkook. Uh, nice to meet you. Have you seen a Thai girl around here at all? She’s got blonde hair, well, it’s dyed, of course, really neat bangs, thick accent... have you seen her? She’s my best friend and I purposely failed the Test because she did and I didn’t want either of us to have to be alone. We’ve known each other since first grade and she’s like my only friend-”

”If she failed the Test, she should be in here, I think,” Taehyung says. “But there’s nobody in our cell block who fits that description.”

”So she’s in one of the other cell blocks?”

”Yeah, probably.”

”Have you seen her in any of those?”

Taehyung frowns. “Jungkook-ssi... if she’s in a different cell block, it’s just as good as one of you failing and the other passing. We can only interact with people from our own cell block.”

Jungkook suddenly feels like his world is falling apart. 

 

___

 

Taehyung tells Jungkook a bit about the way things work in this place, although Jungkook still feels lost. He’s learned about the laundry chutes, which are too small to crawl through, and he’s learned that the cabinet behind the mirror has waxing materials - no razors allowed, Taehyung explains - and a plastic cup for water, which can also be sent down the dirty laundry chute and replaced with a clean one. There are a few tampons in there as well, and a couple coins - nothing else useful to Jungkook. The cell door has another one of those tiny windows in it, and through it Jungkook can see that outside his cell is a wide metal catwalk that goes all the way around the wall of the giant circular well-like structure they’re inside. Each level, Taehyung explains, is a cell block, and the whole block eats and showers and has what Taehyung calls _rec time_ together.

A guard comes after a little while and escorts them out of their cells along with four other people. Jungkook steps out onto the catwalk and walks over to the railing, which comes up to his waist and doesn’t look as sturdy as he’d prefer. The prison is shaped like a huge well, with catwalks forming each level and cells lining the walls along each one. A bright light illuminates each cell door. On one side is a short, well-lit hallway with two metal doors standing open, watched by a particularly intimidating guard. Across from where Jungkook is, another guard is leading six other prisoners toward that hallway - the same direction Jungkook’s group is going. Is it time for dinner?

Jungkook peers over the catwalk railing and is greeted by a dizzying view down into what looks like a cafeteria, where prisoners are lining up and being led out of view. There are six levels below theirs and then the probably-cafeteria, which is well-lit and filled with tables. Above Jungkook’s level are nine more levels, each apparently exactly the same.

”It’s rec time,” Taehyung explains as the little group is herded into the hallway. Jungkook glances over his shoulder and sees another guard retrieving six more people, and then he’s ushered into the elevator at the end of the hall. The guard escorting them presses a button that says _rec room,_ and the elevator starts to descend. There are fifteen buttons that just have numbers, and Jungkook learns that his cell is on level nine. There are buttons that say _staff_ and _cafeteria,_ with the former located above the button that says _one_ and the latter above the one that says _rec room_.

They get out of the elevator in what looks like a lounge area or maybe some part of a nice hotel. There’s a bookshelf against one wall and a hallway with a sign above it that says _restrooms and showers_. Several couches and chairs and a few tables are arrayed around the room, and two other doorways lead to a gym and a room Jungkook can’t see into from his angle but says _games_ above its doorway. Several prisoners are already there, being watched over by several guards. Taehyung leads Jungkook over to a corner by the bookshelf, where a potted plant is positioned in between the doorway to the bathrooms and the side of the shelf, which seems to be bolted to the wall.

”This is our rec time,” Taehyung explains once the two of them are seated by the plant, which Jungkook notices isn’t real. “We have, like, an hour or so of free time down here. We’re under the cafeteria,” he adds. “Also, our cells are on level nine. The very top level is where the offices and stuff are. Most of us - in our cell block, at least - have never been up there. They say Seokjin has, but he never tells anyone about it. He’s crazy anyway; never trust anything he says because most of it’s probably not real. Although Jaehwan told me they really did take Seokjin up there once... I wonder what it’s like.”

“You mentioned Seokjin earlier, didn’t you? Who is he? Do you like him or something?”

“See that guy over there?” Taehyung asks, pointing at a young man reclining on a couch. His feet are kicked up onto the coffee table and he’s talking to the annoyed-looking woman sitting cross-legged next to him. The woman nods occasionally, and Jungkook realizes she’s probably not _actually_ annoyed but just has a very extreme resting bitch face.

“That’s Seokjin?” Jungkook asks, turning his attention to the man. He’s very handsome, with full lips and a well-proportioned face. He looks very serene and happy talking to his friend, and there’s something about him - maybe his looks or his smile - that makes him seem very friendly and approachable. Strangely, though, there’s nobody around them, even though Seokjin looks friendly and the couch has enough room for two more people. Maybe it’s the woman’s expression that’s scaring them off.

”Yeah,” Taehyung replies. “And his friend is Hwasa. Steer clear of those two. Hwasa’s scary and Seokjin’s crazier than a schizophrenic puppy on crack.”

”That’s the weirdest description of a person I’ve ever heard.”

”Yeah, but it’s accurate. The guy’s nuts.” He pauses and looks around the room for a few moments. “Is Jimin here yet?”

“Who?”

”Park Jimin. My best friend. He used to have your cell.”

”You got to stay with your best friend when you failed the Test?” Jealousy flares up inside Jungkook for a second before Taehyung responds.

”No. I met him here. But two years mostly talking to each other and nobody else got us close enough for that.” He shrugs and continues scanning the room, and Jungkook looks around too, although he has no clue what Jimin looks like. He gazes around anyway, unsure what to look for but determined to do his best. He glances over at the couches again, and Seokjin happens to turn his head at the same time. They lock eyes, and Seokjin seems to scan Jungkook’s face in a way that’s reminiscent of a bird of prey sizing up a mouse. His gaze is piercing and he really doesn’t seem particularly crazy, only intelligent and observant. Jungkook hopes he’s not dangerous.

Suddenly, Seokjin turns toward Hwasa, nudges her and says something, and rises to his feet. Hwasa looks a little confused but grabs onto his arm and stands as well, and the two of them start walking in the direction of the bookshelf and the plant. Seokjin’s eyes are still fixed on Jungkook.

”Oh, great,” Taehyung mutters as they approach. “Is he gonna do that thing where he interviews the newbie?”

Seokjin looks intimidating and, honestly, quite scary until he reaches them, squats in front of them, and smiles brightly. “Hi,” he says. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” 

“Uh... yeah?” Jungkook replies awkwardly. “Hi?”

“What’s your name?”

”Jungkook...”

”Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Seokjin and this is Hwasa.” He holds out a hand, and Jungkook reluctantly shakes it. “Hey, is it okay if I ask you a few questions?”

”Go away, Seokjin,” Taehyung says. “We don’t want to talk to you. Nobody likes you. Go away.”

Seokjin’s face falls and he almost looks like he’s about to cry. Hwasa looks genuinely angry now. “Why is everyone here such a fucking _dick?”_ She demands. “Seokjin has done _nothing_ to you. Stop being an asshole before I kick you in the face.”

”You can’t even see me.”

Hwasa suddenly kicks her leg up, probably aiming for Taehyung’s face, and Taehyung lets out a cry of pain when she misses his head and hits him in the shoulder instead. She gives him a smug smile. Jungkook wonders if she’s blind. Now that he thinks about it, her eyes _do_ seem cloudy, and her right iris looks like it was sliced through at one point.

”Hey, calm down, guys,” Seokjin says, clearly trying to diffuse the tension. “It’s okay, I promise. I know nobody likes me. It’s fine for him to say that. It doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s been happening for five years. It’s okay.” It clearly _does_ bother him, but he also seems used to it.

”You can interview me,” Jungkook says, partially just to spite Taehyung. Seokjin’s expression brightens again and he reaches into the pocket of his jumpsuit and pulls out a small notepad and a pen. “Wait,” Jungkook says, “where’d you get that?”

”Stole it from one of the guards,” Seokjin replies nonchalantly. 

“The pen too?”

”Yeah. Anyway, you said your name’s Jungkook, right? What’s your surname?”

”Jeon.”

Seokjin scribbles something down on the notepad and then looks up again. “What part of the test do you think you did best on?”

”Uh, well, I would’ve done best on the obstacle course, but I was trying to fail,” Jungkook replies. Seokjin blinks at him a couple times, looking stunned.

”You were _trying_ to fail? That’s a first. Why? Did someone close to you fail too?”

“Yeah. My best friend Lisa. Have you seen her? You can’t miss her, she’s blonde and Thai-”

”I haven’t seen her, sorry,” Seokjin replies. “If it helps, I know how you feel. I got separated from my best friend too. So if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be there.”

”Thanks. Um, do you have any more questions?”

”Yeah. What did you do to make sure you failed?”

”I just did everything wrong,” Jungkook says. “I tried to answer all the questions wrong and I made sure I screwed up as much as possible during the obstacle course. And then I tripped a couple times in the hall, too. And then they had me write out some poems and stuff, I think to test my handwriting, and I made sure nothing was legible. Then they asked me to sit still for half an hour, so I fidgeted the whole time.” He shrugs. “I just made sure to fuck up as many times as possible.”

”You’d think they’d find that suspicious and have you redo it or something,” Hwasa comments. “I mean, unless you’re from a big city, I guess. Then they might not have time to make you do it again.”

”Well, I’m from Busan.”

”Ah. That explains things.”

”I’m from Gwacheon,” Seokjin offers cheerfully. 

“Nobody cares,” Taehyung replies. “Go away.” He crosses his arms, trying to look tough. Hwasa shoots a death glare in his general direction.

Seokjin turns to Taehyung and approaches him, frowning. His piercing gaze is fixed on Taehyung’s face, and he slowly raises a hand. Taehyung opens his mouth, probably to ask what he’s doing, and then there’s the sound of a slap and Seokjin stands up and takes a step back. “Damn mosquitoes,” he mutters, taking Hwasa’s arm again. The two of them turn and start to walk back to their couch, which appears to have been taken over by a few other people.

Taehyung seems to recover from a daze at that moment, and he scrambles to his feet and runs after them. He leaps onto Seokjin’s back, knocking him to the floor. They scuffle for several moments, with Hwasa looking like she wishes she could be more helpful, and in that time another young man around Taehyung’s age comes over to stand next to Jungkook.

”Prison really brings out the worst in people, doesn’t it?” The newcomer muses. “I wish Taehyung would be nicer to Seokjin. Like, I get that Tae likes his beauty sleep and Seokjin sometimes screams and wakes him up, but he doesn’t have to be so _rude_. This whole place is so cliquish. Oh, by the way, are you new here? My name’s Jimin.”

”Oh, you’re Jimin? Taehyung and I were waiting for you.”

”Oh, sorry. I was just in the bathroom. Breakfast hasn’t exactly been agreeing with me today. What’s your name?”

”Jungk-” He’s interrupted by a loud, frightening shout from a guard who’s rushing over to where Seokjin and Taehyung are still fighting. The guard pulls out a large needle and sticks it into Seokjin’s neck. Jungkook can distinctly hear Seokjin say _you win this time, brat_ before his eyes roll back in his head and he slumps into the guard’s arms.

”Wait, why are you sedating _him?”_ Taehyung asks. “I started it!”

“Maybe so, but you’re a lot less problematic overall than he is,” the guard grunts. “Go sit down, kid.”

”But- no, that’s not fair! Seokjin may be the most annoying motherfucker on the planet and I hate him, but he didn’t start it and _goddamnit_ I draw the line at unfairness.”

”You really want to argue, kid?”

”Don’t,” Hwasa says firmly. “Not unless you want to end up like me. You _did_ hear how I went blind, right?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to argue, thinks better of it, and nods. “Okay,” he says, and then he turns and slinks back to Jimin and Jungkook. “Hi, Jiminie,” he says. “Man, that did _not_ go as expected.”

”Hey, Hwasa-ssi,” Jungkook calls, noticing that Hwasa looks sort of lost without Seokjin. He jumps up and runs over to her, gently touching her shoulder as he does. “Do you want to sit and talk with us?”

”Well...” She looks uncertain, probably because Taehyung was just being ridiculously rude to her friend and she knows Jungkook was hanging out with him, but after a moment’s thought she nods. “Okay. Lead the way.” She lets Jungkook guide her back over to the plant, where they sit down. Taehyung quietly scoots away from her until he’s practically sitting on Jimin, who also looks a little nervous.

”So, uh, why does everyone hate you and Seokjin?” Jungkook asks after a few moments of slightly awkward silence.

”People are assholes,” Hwasa replies with a shrug. “If you’re different, they treat you like shit. That’s why nobody likes Seokjin, and since I hang out with him they don’t like me either. I think some of them are scared of me, too,” she adds. “You know, on my fourth day here I charged at a couple guards because I didn’t like how they were treating Seokjin. One of them was holding a needle and he stuck it in my eye. I think people are scared because I had the audacity to do that and so they just don’t want to mess with me. It sucks that nobody tries to talk to me, but at least they also don’t try to hurt Seokjin.”

Jungkook wants to ask what’s wrong with Seokjin, but he thinks that might be a little too rude, so instead he says, “I know what it’s like to only have one friend. It kinda sucks sometimes, huh?”

”Yeah. It was actually sort of jarring when I first got here and almost nobody made an effort to talk to me because of Seokjin. I mean, he’s a little crazy, but he’s really sweet once you get to know him. I used to have a lot of friends, so coming here and being shunned was kind of shocking. I’ve gotten used to it after two years in this place, but at first it was... I don’t know. It was just hard, I guess.”

”Yeah, I get that. I never had very many friends growing up because, well, I was really shy when I was little and I was known as that kid who didn’t have parents and was always bouncing from family to family. And somehow I managed to make friends with Lisa when she moved from Thailand and also didn’t have friends because of that. And now... now I won’t get to see her again. She was my only friend and they _separated_ us. I don’t have anybody now.” He sighs and buries his face in his hands and Taehyung, who’s been silent this whole time, reaches over and pats him on the back.

Rec time is over far sooner than Jungkook was expecting. Hwasa has to leave first, then Jimin, and Jungkook and Taehyung are in one of the last groups. Jungkook sighs and rises to his feet and heads off toward the elevator alongside Taehyung, and as he walks along the catwalk to his cell he looks down. Far below, in the cafeteria, he can see a line of people wearing orange jumpsuits and holding black trays. And in that line, he can see blonde hair.

 _Lisa_.


	3. Roseanne

There are two problems with being located in cell block one. One is that it’s the highest block, with only the staff level above it, and so there’s a huge fifteen-story drop down into the cafeteria. The other is that block one has breakfast and dinner so early they feel more like a midnight snack and lunch, so Lalisa Manoban is constantly hungry as a result and she hates it. She’s used to eating three meals a day at reasonable times, and to add insult to injury the early breakfast means she has to wake up ridiculously early and the lights in the cells all turn off at night at the same time, so Lisa has to wake up early and can’t go to sleep equally early because of the _stupid fluorescent lights_. 

Fortunately, Lisa and her neighbor - who arrived only a month before her - have figured out a few tricks to help make things more bearable. They smuggle food back to their cells from the cafeteria and stash it in the cabinets behind their mirrors, and they use their pillowcases as eye masks if they want to go to sleep early.

The neighbor in question is a tall, pretty Korean-Australian girl named Roseanne Park. She’s got dyed red hair and a pretty smile and she’s incredibly pissed off at the Korean government for locking her up in this prison. She refuses to answer to her Korean name, Chaeyoung, which is what the guards call her, and she has a distaste for speaking Korean, although she uses it to communicate because she doesn’t speak Thai and Lisa only knows basic English and pretty much everyone else around only speaks Korean. She hates that she has to use it, though, because she doesn’t want to be part of a nation that locks people up for failing a test.

”If I ever get out of here,” Roseanne is saying as they’re walked down to dinner one day, “I am gonna go right the fuck back to Australia and stay there and never leave again. You’re welcome to join me,” she adds. “I mean, you’ll be able to. If I get out you will too. I’m not leaving you here.” The words make Lisa’s heart flutter and she hopes she’s not blushing. She does _not_ have feelings for Roseanne, she _can’t,_ they’re both _women,_ her parents would _hate_ her - if she ever sees them again, that is. 

The cafeteria is big and brightly-lit, with neat rows of tables and an off-white tile floor and the ever-present smell of subpar food. Lisa wonders what dinner will be today and whether or not it’ll be edible. The prison food isn’t exactly known for its quality, a fact that’s reinforced by the woman who always serves it. Lisa has encountered several interesting characters during her time in the prison so far - Moonsik, the 84-year-old man who rambles on and on about how he was part of the first generation to take the Test and what life was like before it; the Screaming Man, who Lisa and Roseanne have never actually met but often hear screaming and crying from several levels below; the creepy old janitor who once came by and peeked into Lisa’s cell one night and was promptly yelled at by a pair of female guards and wasn’t seen (at least on that level) again; and, of course, the lady who serves the meals. She does her job slowly, so the line doesn’t move particularly fast and if you’re one of the unlucky ones at the end you’ll barely have time to eat before mealtime is over, and while she does it she chats about conspiracy theories and doesn’t wear a hairnet or anything. Nobody really trusts her to handle their food, although she’s the only person who ever does it. She gives off a creepy vibe, too, and Lisa would rather be locked in a room with the Screaming Man - a complete stranger who she only knows because of his nonsensical screaming - than the food lady.

”You think the food’ll be edible tonight?” Roseanne asks as the two of them grab their trays and step into the line. “Because if it’s not I’m not gonna be very happy. I’m _starving_. _”_

“Well, it actually smells okay tonight, so we’ll have to see,” Lisa replies. “I miss my mom’s cooking,” she adds with a sigh. “She always made the best food.”

”From what you’ve said about it, I believe it. I used to hate Thai food, but now I’d kill for some good pad thai.”

Lisa giggles and nods. “Yeah, that sounds great right now. Ooh, or some mi krop. Crispy noodles,” she adds upon seeing Roseanne’s confused expression. “Honestly, anything would be better than the food here.”

“Lisa!” A voice calls suddenly. “Lalisa Manoban!” The shout is a bit startling, but that’s not the reason Lisa’s heart skips a beat. She _knows_ that voice.

”Jungkook?” She replies, whirling around to see if her best friend is anywhere nearby. “Jungkook, where are you?” When she doesn’t see him in the cafeteria, she looks up, scanning the catwalks to see if he’s there, peering over the edge. There’s no sign of him, though, no matter where she looks. “Did you hear that?” She asks, turning to Roseanne and clasping her hands desperately. “Please tell me that was real!”

”Either it was or we’re both having the same hallucination,” Roseanne replies. “Your friend must be here. He must have failed the test.”

 

___

 

”Guys,” Lisa says five minutes later as she and Roseanne sit down beside their friends Jisoo and Jennie. “You heard it too, right? Jungkook yelling my name?”

”If that voice belonged to Jungkook, I think we did,” Jisoo says as she brushes a lock of hair out of her face. “But since he’s not with us, it means he’s in a different cell block and you can’t see him.”

”That doesn’t mean anything if you care enough,” Jennie points out. “It shouldn’t be too hard, really. Just find out what block he’s in and get yourself transferred there.”

”But how I do _that?”_ Lisa asks. “What, do you think I should just _ask?”_

“Yeah. The guards are assholes, but if there’s one thing I know it’s that a little force goes a long way.” She shrugs, and it’s in moments like these that Lisa remembers she was a delinquent before she took the Test. Jennie claims it’s in her blood, seeing as her family illegally immigrated to New Zealand so she wouldn’t have to take the Test (they were eventually deported anyway), and either way the whole juvenile delinquent persona suits her and she still manages to be likeable.

”I don’t think they’ll move her just because she wants to be moved,” Jisoo says. “There’s got to be a reason.”

”You could say you don’t like the early mealtimes,” Roseanne suggests. “No clue if it’ll work, but you could try. Actually, maybe Moonsik knows. He’s been here the longest. He’s probably seen a few transfers in his lifetime.”

”Ooh, you’re right,” Jisoo agrees. “C’mon, Lisa, let’s go find him.” She rises to her feet, abandoning the dubiously-safe meatloaf on her tray, and the other three girls follow her. They find Moonsik fairly quickly, since he stands out as the only really old person in cell block one, and he seems pleased to talk to them.

”You want to transfer blocks?” He asks. “Well, that _is_ possible, but I’ve never had it happen. I’ve been in block one my whole life. An old friend of mine got transferred once, though. He told the guards he was afraid of heights and they moved him to block fifteen.”

”What if I don’t want to be moved to the very bottom block, though?” Lisa asks, sure that Jungkook was calling from higher up than that. “What do I do then?”

”Hmm... I'm not sure. Maybe just ask, I suppose. That may work. Yes, try that and if it doesn’t work ask me again and we can come up with something new, alright?”

”Okay. Hey, while we’re here, can you tell us a few stories?”

”Here we go again,” Jennie grumbles. “God, we’re gonna be here all night.”

”Of course,” Moonsik says at the same time. “What do you want to hear about?”

”Strange things that have happened here. I mean, if that’s okay and all.”

”Of course, of course. So... the first one that comes to mind happened around five years ago,” he says thoughtfully. “There was a young man somewhere in this place who would sing at night. He had a beautiful voice and would always sing songs that were empowering and hopeful and soul-stirring. This went on for about two weeks, I think, and then one night he stopped and never sang again. I don’t know what happened, but I would love to hear him sing again.”

”Maybe I can sing for you,” Roseanne suggests. “I love singing. I was in my school’s choir back in Australia.”

”That might be nice. This place definitely needs more music.”

”Agreed. Thanks, Moonsik.”

 

___

 

Late that night, after the lights in the cells have been turned off and the ones outside have turned red, Roseanne begins to sing. The song is an old one, but Lisa knows it because of Jungkook. If she remembers right, it’s _One Shot_ by B.A.P - one of Jungkook’s favorite bands. Lisa’s never fancied herself much of a singer, but she joins in anyway in hopes that Jungkook will hear her voice. Will the sound even carry down to wherever he is? Lisa desperately hopes it will.

Only a few measures pass before Lisa can hear Jungkook’s voice floating up from below. It’s quiet and comes from far away, but it’s definitely him. He’s singing along, sounding just like Lisa remembers, and then suddenly there’s a yell for him to stop. It’s the Screaming Man, and he sounds like he desperately wants the singing to stop, like it’s driving him crazy.

“Stop singing,” he cries. “Stop singing! Please, stop it! It’s for your own good! I’m warning you, _don’t sing!_ Stop it, you idiots! Listen to me! They’ll-” He breaks off abruptly, and Lisa realizes they must have done whatever they always do to shut him up. She lets herself fall silent for a moment and then resumes her singing when Roseanne and Jungkook don’t stop. Someone else joins in from somewhere a little closer than Jungkook, and then Jennie and Jisoo start singing as well.

 _”Shut the everloving fuck up,”_ a gruff voice bellows, interrupting the song in a much more frightening way. “You can sing during your rec time or quietly in your cells and _that’s it_. Do _not_ cause a ruckus, _especially_ at night. And songs with lyrics like _that_ are banned, no exceptions. _Shut. Up.”_

“Damn,” Roseanne says. Lisa can only nod in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify: in this universe, the Test has been around longer than B.A.P has. B.A.P was around only thirty or so years before the events of the story. Also, everything is in the future, B.A.P included.


	4. Bultaoreune

The night is bright, illuminated by the lights of Seoul. Even at ten-thirty at night, the skyline glows and twinkles. From his perch on the roof of a tall hotel, Min Yoongi can see the last light turn off in an adjacent building. He waits five minutes before he gets up and walks away across the roof, past the otherwise empty pool. It’s time for the roof area to close, and on his way down he passes the security guard on the way to lock it up. The guard pays him no mind, and Yoongi doesn’t acknowledge him either. They pass each other fleetingly and then each flickers out of the other one’s life as fast as he’d entered. People are like embers in this way, Yoongi thinks, coming and going fast, never staying for long. Just like everything else in life, relationships are just like fire.

For as long as he can remember, Yoongi’s been enamored with fire. When he was little, he’d stare into the fireplace, enchanted by the dancing flames. When he burned marshmallows and chips to calculate their calories in his high school chemistry class, something had awoken in him, something that loved to set things on fire. Now he’s turned that love into an almost-career as a serial arsonist working with the underground revolutionary organization known as the Hidden Sun. He pretends to work on his own, spraypainting the letters _YK_ near the things he burns to make it look like he’s unaffiliated with the Hidden Sun, and his goal is to keep the authorities locked in a perpetual wild goose chase while the Hidden Sun works to figure out the criteria for passing the Test and, hopefully, eventually take the whole system down. It’s hard, but _damn_ he loves it.

The building he’s targeting tonight is the new building where all business concerning the Test - as well as the Test itself - is carried out. This one was just built two weeks ago after Yoongi had burned down its predecessor, and now it’s about to meet the same fate. He slips out of the hotel and over to the empty parking lot of the new Test building. On his way he grabs the can of gasoline he’d stashed in the bushes outside the hotel, making sure to act confident, like he’s _supposed_ to be carrying a plain, hard-to-identify bag and a gas can over to one of the city’s most important buildings.

The parking lot and the building are each devoid of people, as is the sidewalk around them. Yoongi hums appreciatively and quickly finds the back door. He picks the lock and then turns, walks over to the corner of the parking lot, and pulls out his can of bright blue spraypaint. Slowly, deliberately, he inscribes the two letters on the asphalt, and he’s putting the can back into his bag when he hears the distinctive click of high heels on pavement. His heart leaps into his throat and he quickly straightens up, hoping his mask really will help conceal his identity. The person standing there is a young woman, dressed in heels and a simple dark gray dress and a black blazer. Her hair is long and dyed silver and she looks more innocent than not.

”What are you doing?” She asks, looking more confused than anything else.

”What are _you_ doing?” Yoongi replies. He mentally congratulates himself for such a smooth deflection, but the woman isn’t having it. She stares at him, eyebrows raised, and then she glances down and back up and a look of realization suddenly spreads over her face.

”You’re the YK Arsonist,” she breathes. “Wow, god, you’re my hero!”

Yoongi stares at her, unable to comprehend that last sentence. “I- I am?” He stammers after a second. “Why?”

”Because of the statements you make about the government and the Test,” the woman replies. “To me, opposing the Test is standing up against the people who took Seokjin from me.”

”Who’s Seokjin? Your boyfriend?”

The woman snorts. “Boyfriend? No. Seokjin is my best friend. We grew up together and then they took him away and left me behind. It’s been five years and I still miss him. So... thank you, YK. Thank you for doing this.”

Yoongi isn’t quite sure how to respond. He’s never had someone tell him he’s their hero before. “I- uh, thanks,” he says. “I mean, it’s nothing, really. I hate the Test too. I mean, I also lost someone.”

”I’m sorry,” the woman says gently. “It hurts, doesn’t it? Knowing you’ll probably never see them again because they’re the smartest person you know and if they were alive they would’ve escaped wherever they are by now? Trying to stay hopeful even though their chances of coming back get smaller and smaller every day? Hoping they’ll come back even though nobody ever does?”

Her words tug at Yoongi’s heart, reigniting the ache he always struggles so hard to put out. “Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse and quiet. “It really does hurt. And it’s only been two years for me... I can’t imagine what five must be like, or even longer than that...” He blinks back tears, trying to flush out the unwanted thoughts that are flooding his head. All he can see is a sweet smile, chubby cheeks, soft pink hair. He can still feel the sensation of little warm hands in his own, hear a melodic childlike voice ringing out like a chime in his ears. 

They’re both silent for a moment, just two strangers mourning their losses together. Then the sound of a car honking its horn a couple blocks away startles them out of their stupor and they look up and lock eyes once more before Yoongi gives the woman an awkward wave and she smiles in return.

”Wait,” she says suddenly. “Can I give you my number?”

Yoongi’s brain seems to stop working like a candle flickering out and he just stares at her for a second. “My- my number?”

”Don’t worry, I'm not hitting on you. I have a girlfriend. I just think... maybe we should join forces. There’s not much I can do, because I’m just an office worker, but maybe if we work together we can get our friends back. Or at least get some closure,” she adds more quietly. Yoongi nods wordlessly and gets his phone out, and she tells him her number. “By the way, my name’s Moon Byulyi,” she says, and then she bids him goodbye and walks away. Yoongi watches her go before turning back toward the building he’s supposed to burn.

 

___

 

Once the fire is set and has started to spread, Yoongi slips away from the building. Behind him, flames illuminate the parking lot with their entrancing glow. Embers leap into the air, glowing like tiny stars before they wink out. It’s beautiful, but Yoongi can’t stay long unless he wants to be caught. He tears his gaze away and vanishes down an alley.

He walks back to the hotel and retrieves his car, a simple white 2065 Toyota Camry with no distinguishing features. Nobody’s outside to notice him putting his bag and the gas can into the trunk, and he escapes unseen as usual. The drive back to his apartment is long, but he doesn’t mind. Driving gives him time to think.

His thoughts wander to the woman he met earlier - Moon Byulyi. She seemed nice enough when they’d talked, but Yoongi can’t figure out why she was willing to tell him so much personal stuff at the drop of a hat. Did she really trust him that much? Seeing as she’d also jumped to (correct) conclusions about his identity, she might simply be talkative or something of a ditz. She doesn’t come off as particularly dumb, though - she seems to be merely average. Yoongi can tell she’s not a dumb blonde type, and she’s at least aware that her friend is probably not coming back. Is she trustworthy, though? Everyone hates the Test; she’s not special in that regard. Does she really idolize Yoongi that much?

When he gets home, Yoongi’s attention turns to two things: lighting a fire in the apartment’s little fireplace and contacting the Hidden Sun. He pulls out his phone - a Samsung model so old it’s impossible for the government to trace - and sends a text to Jung Hoseok, the Hidden Sun’s leader. _Success,_ it says. _New Test bldg is burning_. Hoseok replies two minutes later with a _meet you @ your place_.

 

___

 

Nearly an hour later, Hoseok arrives alongside his two sisters, Jiwoo and Wheein. The three of them are the ones in charge of the Hidden Sun - Hoseok is the leader, Jiwoo works as a sort of spy, using her government job as a way to get information about the test, and Wheein is the one who comes up with plans and strategies.

“Hey,” Hoseok says as the trio walks into Yoongi’s apartment. His orange hair is slightly messy and he’s wearing basketball shorts and an ugly Christmas sweater (despite it being only the first of September), but he still looks just as handsome as ever. Yoongi’s heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s safe to say that at this point Yoongi is in love, although as hard as he tries he still can’t move on from his previous love, the boy who was taken from him by the Test two years ago. This leaves him in a predicament: he wants to move on and love only Hoseok instead, but he’s stuck with feelings for two men instead, one of whom is gone and will never come back. It’s rational to focus on Hoseok, but he just can’t manage to extinguish the feelings he still has for the man he once loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some worldbuilding stuff:
> 
> -people still use cell phones, but they’re much more advanced and some models even offer 3D hologram projections (just like in sci-fi movies).  
> -plastic surgery is no longer as popular as it is in modern Korea, with people preferring a more natural look.  
> -hair dye, however, is a huge trend, so almost everyone (exceptions include Seokjin, Jungkook, and Hwasa) has dyed hair. The prison where the Failed Ones are kept even has a hairdresser who comes in every other week, which is why everyone has perfect hair.  
> -North and South Korea are unified, forming the Unified Republic of Korea.  
> -Yoongi’s car is rather old and his phone is completely obsolete. He has a more modern phone for non-rebellious things.  
> -B.A.P in this universe is equivalent to 80s music today - the band is from about thirty years prior to the events of the story.


	5. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter but it’s emotional

The room is dark save for the stray moonbeams that slip past the blinds and spill onto the floor. The glowing red numbers on the alarm clock read 12:39. The only sound is Kim Yongsun’s soft snoring. It’s the perfect environment for sleeping, but Moon Byulyi is wide awake. She can’t stop thinking about what had transpired earlier in the evening - her meeting with the YK Arsonist. 

YK is an icon of rebellion, burning government buildings to the ground in protest of the Test. Byulyi has looked up to him for the past couple years, seeing him as a symbol of hope, a torch burning brightly in the darkness. Now she’s finally met him, and the incident has reopened old wounds.

Byulyi has long since moved on from the loss of Seokjin. She’s moved on from losing all her childhood friends except Yongsun. She’s an adult; she knows better than to live the rest of her life in sorrow. But even though she’s moved on, she hasn’t forgotten. She remembers how everything had fallen apart, how she and Yongsun lost everyone except each other and their own families. It’s been almost five years since the day that started it all, and Byulyi’s moved on, but she still remembers.

There’s a picture on the nightstand, barely visible in the dim light. It shows their group back in high school, before everything had gone to shit. There’s Seokjin, and beside him is Byulyi, holding Yongsun’s hand, and there’s Hyosang and Heeyeon with their arms around Junghwan’s shoulders. Byulyi can’t make out much else in the darkness, but she knows the picture well. They’re all smiling in it, blissfully unaware of what would happen later that same year.

Byulyi would be lying if she said she didn’t miss her old friends. Sure, she’s moved on, but the group had been together since elementary school. They’d been so happy, playing and growing up together, and then Seokjin - Byulyi’s best friend since they were toddlers - had failed the Test and everything had fallen apart. Seokjin had failed and, like all the others, was never seen again, and then Hyosang and Byulyi passed later that month. Hyosang had moved away in January, giving no warning and telling almost nobody where he was going. His parents had known but had said he’d asked them not to tell, and Hyosang dropped off the face of the earth and that was that. Then Junghwan was killed three months later in a car crash after leaving a nightclub, and Heeyeon, who’d been picking him up, was left in a coma she still hasn’t awoken from. It’s only Byulyi and Yongsun left now. The others are all gone.

Yongsun shifts in Byulyi’s arms and then wriggles her way into a sitting position. “Byul,” she says sleepily. “Stop looking at the picture and go to sleep. Look forward, remember? We’ve moved on. We have to focus on the future, not the past. There’s nothing we can do to change what happened.”

”I know, Sunny,” Byulyi replies. “It’s just... sometimes I think I should have failed instead.” 

“Byulyi, no. No. Why do you think it should’ve been you?”

”Because... if I had failed instead of Seokjin he’d still be here and the group would still be more or less together, just without me.”

“No, Byul. I don’t think it would be very different at all. Hyosang was talking about how he wanted to leave the country since middle school, remember? I think he would’ve left anyway-”

”Yeah, but Seokjin could’ve persuaded him to stay in contact with us. And then maybe Junghwan wouldn’t have started drinking and partying and going to all those clubs. Maybe he and Heeyeon wouldn’t have gotten into that crash. Seokjin would’ve gotten him help to get over his alcoholism. He’d still be alive and Heeyeon wouldn’t be in a coma.”

”Maybe so, but that doesn’t change what really happened. Seokjin failed, Hyosang left, Junghwan died, Heeyeon’s in a coma. We can’t change that, Byul. There’s nothing we can do other than accept it and move on with our lives.”

”I know. But- but...” She trails off, unsure of what to say, and a tear rolls down her cheek. Yongsun reaches up and wipes it away before pulling the other woman into a hug.

“Don’t cry, Byul. It’ll be okay. It’s been okay for the past five years. Why would that stop now?” She lays down, pulling Byulyi with her, and cradles her in her arms. “Don’t cry. Life goes on. You’ve been doing so well. Why change that now?”

”I- I dunno. It’s just- Sunny, I’m starting to think I haven’t really moved on.”

”Moving on doesn’t mean you have to forget what happened,” Yongsun murmurs. “You can still miss them. It’s okay to be sad once in a while. Moving on just means you don’t spend all your time dwelling on it.”

Byulyi sighs. “I guess you’re right.”

”I majored in psychology, Byul,” Yongsun reminds her. “I’m an intern in a lab where they’re studying grief and its effects. I know I’m right.” She smiles, and even though it’s barely visible in the dark Byulyi can see it clear as day. “Now go to sleep, baby. In the morning we’ll go get coffee together at that place you like. Y’know, the new one I can never remember the name of.”

Her words contain the warmth of the sun itself, and Byulyi’s sorrow evaporates, at least for that moment. She still has Yongsun, she reminds herself. She’ll be okay.


	6. Newbie

On the morning of September second, Kim Namjoon wakes up, remembers what day it is, and immediately scrambles out of bed with such vigor he nearly tumbles to the floor. He gets dressed and jumps onto his hoverboard, arriving at the secluded facility in the mountains almost twenty minutes early. The place looks like a small military base, with wire-topped fences surrounding it and guards patrolling, wearing uniforms identical to Namjoon’s new one. A few trainees are being drilled nearby, seemingly practicing for the event of a riot. Several squat, boring buildings dot the premises. Namjoon walks into the most heavily-guarded one and stashes his hoverboard in one of the specially-designed lockers near the entrance. 

“Kim Namjoon reporting for duty,” he announces cheerily. The security lady just sighs and points him to the elevator. Namjoon nods and steps inside. It’s empty aside from him, giving him a chance to gather his thoughts.

For the past year and a half, he’s been in training to become a guard at the top-secret facility where the people who fail the Test are kept, and on the thirtieth of August he’d finally been made a full-fledged guard. Today is his first real day on the job, although he’s supposed to stick with some older guys who know what they’re doing for the duration of his first month. Incidentally, it’s also his first time really seeing the prison itself. He’s only seen it in pictures, but now that he’s a guard he can actually go inside.

Training was really quite simple, with extensive instructions on protocol and weapons. Most of it, actually, had been brainwashing and not much else, and he didn’t like it, but he couldn’t just back out. He’d originally chosen this career path so his sister wouldn’t have to be alone if she failed the Test, but she’d passed and now Namjoon’s sort of stuck with the job, probably for the rest of his life. Oh well. Maybe he’ll be able to make someone else’s life better. After all, they’re stuck too, just like he is. 

The guys he has to stick with meet up with him when he leaves the elevator and walks out onto a dizzyingly high catwalk. Fifteen other levels - the cell blocks - stand between him and the ground, and it seems far too easy to fall all that way and die on the spot. Fortunately, there’s a safety net below the lowest cell block, probably so no bodies fall into the cafeteria, but it really wouldn’t do much unless you fell from the lowest couple levels. From up here at the top you’d get cut up so badly by the net you’d probably end up permanently disfigured at best. Namjoon shudders at the thought.

”Hey, you’re Kim Namjoon, right?” One of the three guys says as he approaches. When Namjoon nods, he continues, “I’m Lee Hyunkwan and I’m the guy you have to follow around. These two are joining us too, but just for today.”

”Hey,” one of the others - a large man with a shaved head and stubbly chin - says. “The name’s Kim Wonjae. Nice to meet you.”

”And I’m Byun Yonggil,” the third man says. He’s short, the top of his head only coming up to Namjoon’s shoulder, but he’s definitely the scariest of the three. There’s a prominent scar on his cheek and a permanent scowl on his face, and Namjoon makes a mental note to avoid getting on this guy’s bad side. 

"Um, nice to meet you," Namjoon says awkwardly. "Hi."

"That kinda tone ain't gonna fly, kid," Yonggil tells him. "You gotta be  _assertive_ and  _tough_ or else they won't listen to ya."

Namjoon vaguely remembers hearing something like that during his training, although it had been overshadowed by the horrible implications of the fact that the guards were given explicit instructions not to kill the prisoners. “Right,” he says. “I’ll be assertive and tough. You won’t even know I’m a newbie.” He stands up straight and does his best confident smile, and the three other men all look pretty satisfied. 

“Alright,” Hyunkwan says. “Come on, kid. We’ll show you around.” He starts walking off down the catwalk, and Yonggil nudges Namjoon to get him to follow. Namjoon nods and hurries after the three other men, trying to remember to act confident as he does. 

As they walk down the catwalk, Hyunkwan points out different doors and tells Namjoon where they lead. “That’s Warden Kim’s office,” he explains. “He keeps the prisoners under control. And that one’s Director Moon’s. He’s in charge of the whole place.” 

“What’s in there?” Namjoon asks, pointing to a heavy-looking door with a sign that says LEVEL THREE ACCESS ONLY in big red letters.

”We don’t know,” Wonjae replies with a shrug. “We’re just regular old guards. Y’know, with level two clearance. We can’t get in.”

”Oh. Right. I see.” Namjoon runs over the clearance levels in his head, refreshing his memory. Staff members like the janitors and the cook and the doctors are level one, regular guards are level two, and the administrators and senior guards are level three. Namjoon wondered just how many level-three people there were. Surely there couldn’t be that many, right?

”Break room’s down that little hall there,” Hyunkwan says, snapping Namjoon out of his thoughts. “So are the bathrooms. Hey, kid, are you still listening?”

”Yeah,” Namjoon says quickly. “Yeah, I’m listening. Sorry.”

“Remember, be tough,” Yonggil reminds him. “If you’re too soft the prisoners’ll take advantage of you. That’s just how it is. Happened to me when I was a newbie, around eleven years ago now. The prisoners down on block fourteen tried to start a riot during their breakfast time. It was my second week here and some of ‘em had realized how soft I was. It was just me and another guy in the cafeteria at the time, and they tried to rise up and attack us and shit. That’s how I got this scar here. A guy attacked me with a broken plastic knife and-”

”Hey, Yonggil, I’m trying to give a tour,” Hyunkwan interrupts. “You can tell him your life story later. Anyway, kid, that door there's the security room. It's where we've got all the camera monitors and whatnot. You'll probably have to work a shift or two in there at some point." 

“Okay,” Namjoon replies. He remembers hearing something about this during his training, but it wasn’t mentioned for more than a second or two. “For that, I just sit there and make sure nothing goes wrong, right?”

Hyunkwan nods. “Right.” He motions for Namjoon to follow him, and they continue along the catwalk. Namjoon pays as much attention as he can from that point on, and he tries to act confident, and Yonggil seems pretty satisfied. The tour goes on without much fanfare, and before he knows it Namjoon is heading down to the cafeteria with his new companions for his first real task - watching over the residents of cell block one as they eat their dinner. He’s stationed on one side of the elevator and Hyunkwan is on the other, and Wonjae and Yonggil go to stand on the other side of the room and next to the kitchen door, respectively.

Namjoon gazes around the cafeteria, taking note of his surroundings. The walls are orange, matching the prisoners’ jumpsuits, and the floor is a checkerboard of red-orange and off-white. Prisoners are trickling into the room in small groups, led by other guards, and they all line up by the kitchen and take their trays from the silver counter one by one. Namjoon wonders what it must be like for them, knowing they’re doomed to spend their lives in this place and follow the same boring schedule every day for years to come.  _Most of them die before they’re forty,_ he remembers someone telling him during training. _It’s usually either suicide or natural causes._ He’s not sure what those natural causes are - he was too horrified to ask at the time - but now he thinks stress might play a role. He tries to push the thought away.

He hasn’t been standing there for very long when four pretty young women approach him. One of them, a girl with dyed blonde hair, nervously steps forward, nudged by the redheaded girl beside her. Two others, both with black hair, stand behind them, and one looks anxious but the other is clearly trying to be intimidating despite her small size. It’s working - Namjoon is starting to feel sort of threatened.

”Um, excuse me,” the blonde says. She has a thick accent Namjoon can’t place and her voice is shaking a little. “Can- can I transfer to a different cell block?”

Namjoon blinks at her in confusion. “What? Why?”

”Uh...” The blonde looks sort of nervous, but the anxious-looking black-haired girl answers for her.

”She wants to have a more reasonable schedule,” she explains. “Everything’s so early for us and it’s bothering her.” The blonde girl nods in agreement and flashes Namjoon a charming smile that makes him think she has some ulterior motive for wanting to move.

”Uh, I don’t know if you can transfer,” Namjoon says slowly, glancing over at Hyunkwan as he speaks. His mentor is watching carefully but making no attempt to help Namjoon out. Is this a test?

”Please?” The blonde asks. She seems sort of desperate - why? What does she really want?

”I’m not sure,” Namjoon says. “That’s not within my jurisdiction. Sorry.”

”Can you ask?”

”No,” Hyunkwan says, finally deciding to insert himself into the conversation. “He won’t be doing that and neither will I. You can’t just change blocks on a whim, girlie. Doesn’t matter if you don’t like the schedule. Just get used to it and shut up.”

"Hey," the mean-looking girl in the back says, taking a step forward. "Don't talk to her like that."

"I can talk to her however I like," Hyunkwan retorts. The girl crosses her arms and glares at him.

"Listen, bastard," she growls. "Your job here is  _not_ to bully innocent girls who have innocent questions. You're supposed to stand around and make sure nobody tries to run away and that’s it. Now stop talking to my friend that way _or else.”_

Hyunkwan glares right back at her. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

"What else would it be?"

"Do you really wanna start shit with me, little bitch? I'm a guard, and you're just a prisoner. I'm armed and you're not. You sure you wanna do this?"

The girl shrugs. "That wasn't my original plan, but now that you've called me a little bitch fighting you is definitely on my to-do list." She cracks her knuckles, and her friends all give her concerned looks.

"Don't try and fight him, Jennie," the other black-haired girl says. "He's right. He'll kick your ass."

"You're underestimating me, Sooya," Jennie replies. "And besides, life's no fun without a little risk. If I'll be stuck here for the rest of my life, I may as well make it interesting."

"Jennie," the other girl says again, in a way that reminds Namjoon of a stern wife or mother. "Don't you _dare."_

"I'll be fine. His friend here doesn't seem too dangerous, so it'll mostly just be him. I can take him, don't worry."

"That's what you think, little bitch," Hyunkwan says. "But if you're so confident, go on. Try it."

Jennie raises an eyebrow. "But do you really have the balls to hit me back? If I were to attack you, I bet all your stupid bravado would vanish in, like, a second."

"There's no need for this," Namjoon manages to say. "Both of you, please don't attack each other. There's no way this can end well."

"Yeah," the red-haired girl agrees, although she looks a little surprised that Namjoon isn't immediately siding with Hyunkwan. "Stop it, both of you." She has an accent too, it turns out, but Namjoon can recognize this one. This girl must be Australian.

"This little girl is challenging me," Hyunkwan says. "And besides, why should I listen to you? You're just a prisoner."

"Hey, what did I say about talking to my friends like that?" Jennie asks coolly. "And I'm not a little girl."

"You look pretty little to me," Hyunkwan retorts. "Really, are you sure you want a fight?"

"Absolutely. But do  _you_ want one? If you're as strong as you say you are, you would've hit me already."

"I could say the same thing about you. If you really want to fight me, why haven't you done anything?" He crosses his arms, and Jennie just shrugs. A jolt of fear runs through Namjoon as he realizes that she's trying to make him land the first punch, so it looks like he started it.  _She's smarter than Hyunkwan realizes,_ he thinks.  _This could be bad._

"Go on," Jennie is saying. "Hit me. No balls."

"Hyunkwan-ssi, don't hit her," Namjoon says. "She knows what she's doing. She wants you to hit first. This girl's not stupid."

"She obviously is if she wants to fight me," Hyunkwan replies, not taking his eyes off Jennie. "I'm trained and armed. She's just a prisoner, and a dumb one at that."

"Take that back right now," Jennie snarls. She takes a step forward, and the other black-haired girl puts a firm hand on her shoulder. Jennie shrugs it off, and the other girl tries to grab her arm instead. This isn't effective either. There's no way this situation can end well.

Fortunately, a loud bell rings through the prison before things can escalate any further, and Namjoon stifles a sigh of relief. Their mealtime is over. The prisoners will have to go back to their cells now. The fight can't happen.

Wonjae walks over and beckons for the girls to follow him. They do, although Jennie gives Hyunkwan the nastiest death glare Namjoon's ever seen. They disappear into the elevator, and Hyunkwan mutters something about insolent little bitches under his breath and leads Namjoon off to go retrieve a few more prisoners.

 

___

 

Namjoon ends up overseeing the next three blocks as they eat their dinners, and there are no further incidents and it's really sort of boring. Then he and Hyunkwan head up to patrol on block nine, and of course Yonggil and Wonjae go with them. Namjoon and Hyunkwan walk along the catwalk, Yonggil does too but stays exactly opposite them the whole time, and Wonjae stands by the hallway that leads to the elevator. They make three rotations, and Namjoon is starting to space out when an earsplitting scream erupts from a nearby cell. Namjoon jumps, startled, and it takes everything in him not to shriek. What's going on? Is this person okay? They sound upset, he notices. Sad or scared or desperate for something. 

"Hey, kid, wanna have some fun?" Hyunkwan asks. The person is still screaming, and Namjoon is starting to get genuinely scared. 

"What's going on?" He cries. "What-"

"That's Kim Seokjin," Hyunkwan mutters. "He always does this. He's in that cell right there. Go sedate him. 25 milligrams of the sedative works for him. Go on, kid." He nudges Namjoon forward, and Namjoon nods and approaches the cell door. He freezes when he looks through the little window, startled by what he sees. Inside is a strikingly handsome young man with dark hair and broad shoulders, and he somehow looks more distressed than Namjoon had imagined. He's leaning against the wall, gripping the edge of a little window that connects his cell to the next.

"She fell," he cries, and the woman on the other side of the window says something Namjoon doesn't catch. "This time... she- she fell! Always, every time, she always- it's always wrong! She's never here! Why do I- where is she? Star... why can't you be here? Why? Star! Star, please... please...!"

"It's not real," the woman says. "None of it's real."

"I know," the man wails, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. "I know, I know-"

"No, Seokjin. You don't. That's the problem."

"I know, I-  _no,_ Byulyi, no, please!" He's staring at something slightly above him, as if someone only he can see is standing or perhaps hanging there. The woman tells him it's not real, and Hyunkwan yells for Namjoon to hurry up and sedate the guy already. Namjoon takes a deep breath and opens the door, but there's no way he can just knock him out. This man is clearly suffering, clearly needs help.

"Excuse me," Namjoon says as he steps into the cell. The man turns to him, the horrified look on his tear-streaked face morphing into one of mixed bitterness and resignation. The woman stares blankly in his direction through the wire mesh of the window, and Namjoon suddenly feels vaguely threatened. "Is everything okay?"

"W-why are you asking that?" The man replies, voice filled with a mixture of sadness and vitriol. "You don't care. Just- just stick the needle in me already. It's better than being awake anyway." His voice is shaking, but he still manages to sound angry. 

"I- I do care," Namjoon protests weakly. "Really. What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"It's none of your-" He trails off, staring at something behind Namjoon, and Namjoon instinctively turns to look. There's nothing there. Namjoon turns back. The man is still staring, looking horrified.

"What are you looking at? Are you okay?" Namjoon kneels in front of the man, and he doesn't respond. Something irrational takes over, and he reaches out and takes the man's hand. The man gasps and his eyes refocus on Namjoon, who gives him a soft smile.  _It's alright,_ he wants to tell him.  _Whatever you're going through, it'll be okay._

For a moment there's only the sound of the man's ragged breathing, and then the woman speaks. "Why haven't you left yet?" She asks. "What do you want?"

"I- I just want to make sure everyone's okay," Namjoon says. "I want to help. That's- that's why I'm here."

"But you're a guard, aren't you?"

"Yes...?"

The woman laughs, although it's clearly fake. "Wow," she says. "You should be a comedian. At guard at this place who actually _cares?_ That's the funniest joke I've ever heard."

"But it's not a joke," Namjoon protests. "I care, really. That's why I'm here." 

"Just go," the man says suddenly. He just sounds weary now, like he doesn't have the energy to be sad or angry or scared anymore. "You're not real. Go away. Please."

"Not real?" Namjoon echoes. "No, no, I promise I'm real. I even have a name. Kim Namjoon. I'm real, I swear-" He's interrupted by Hyunkwan yelling at him, demanding to know what he's doing. "I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I have to go." He rises to his feet and hurries out of the cell, and as soon as he's locked the door Hyunkwan is grabbing him by the shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing, kid?!" The older guard demands. "Were you  _talking_ to him?!"

"Yeah, I-"

"Why? You were supposed to  _sedate_ him, not strike up a conversation!"

"But he- he needed help! He-"

"Listen, kid. If there's one thing you need to learn about this place, it's that you absolutely  _cannot_ be soft. It's like Yonggil told you earlier. The prisoners'll take advantage of you. They may be the failures of society, but that doesn't mean they won't try to use you. Imagine if you had tried to pull that on a different prisoner. Yeah, Kim Seokjin and that Ahn girl are harmless, but what if you'd tried to talk to one of the prisoners down on block fourteen? You'd be a little beat up at best, dead at worst, and we'd have a prison break on our hands. So  _do not_ go and socialize with the prisoners. Am I clear?"

Namjoon nods meekly. "Y-yes, sir. I understand."

"Good. Now come on, this rotation's almost done. Let's go."

Namjoon nods again and follows him off down the catwalk, but he can't seem to stop thinking about that man.


End file.
